Cowboy's Secret Son. Robin Perini

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       Chapter Two

      Spring didn’t bring new beginnings to Last Chance Ranch; it choked ’em dry in the West Texas sun. Jared King had learned long ago that his family’s cattle spread richly deserved its name. It had for six generations.

      Now, he even had to fight his north-side neighbor, Ned Criswell, for water that was rightfully theirs. A never ending feud he’d tried to escape for years.

      When Jared had volunteered for the Army at eighteen, he’d been convinced he would never succumb to the ranch’s bad karma. What a young fool he’d been. After being discharged he’d brought home a beautiful young wife and pretended he could find hope where only despair had dug in roots. After Alyssa’s death, he’d finally given in to whatever mojo the half-million acres possessed. He wouldn’t try to buck destiny again.

      He tilted his Stetson against the afternoon glare and hooked his boot on the sturdy rail of the bull pen. He leveled the dead-cold stare that would have sent his ranch hands quaking and running for cover on Ned Criswell and his no-good son. The two burley men refused to back off. “You can’t keep that river dammed up. Last Chance Lake is down several feet already.”

      Ned’s face turned beet red, and he stuck out his barrel chest. “The water stays on my side of the property line until you stop those company men from traipsing across my land.”

      Jared head throbbed. They’d replayed this scene countless time over the years. The bad blood between the families stretched back decades, but Ned Criswell had become even more ruthless. And relentless. He might actually do it, just to get back at Jared’s father, even though he’d passed away years ago.

      The son, on the other hand, Chuck Criswell was all about the money. And the power.

      “The water’s running low for my cattle,” Jared said, fighting to keep his tone reasonable for the moment. “You don’t want to take this fight any further, Ned. You know I’ll win.”

      “My father has as many friends in Austin as you do. We want what’s coming to us.” Chuck spit a wad of tobacco on the ground.

      “Shut up,” Ned said, glaring at his son.

      Even with the same goal, the two men couldn’t show a united front. A sure way to lose. Jared was fine with that.

      A loud snort sounded from the enclosure next to them. Chuck scooted away from the fence. “That bull is a menace.” He frowned. “You shouldn’t have saved him.”

      Sometimes Jared agreed. Angel Maker had earned his name. He’d nearly gored a half dozen of Jared’s best hands. The black bull from hell pawed at the dirt, giving Jared the evil eye. He’d saved the bad-tempered beast from being put down after a deadly episode at the San Antonio Rodeo earlier this year. The bull’s bloodline would solidify Jared’s place as the premier stock supplier for the Professional Bull Riders rodeo circuit. His money might come from oil and gas now, but at his heart he was still a rancher, and the rodeo was in his blood.

      Besides, Jared had a penchant for lost causes...at least those that didn’t touch his heart.

      Angel Maker butted his head against the fence. This time Ned joined his son, away from the pen. Jared bit back a smile. If the animal had wanted to do any real damage that pen wouldn’t stop him. “He likes you.”

      The older man bit out a curse. “You gonna say something to those oil guys or not?”

      “You signed a contract. They have a right to cross your land on the road.”

      “I changed my mind.”

      Yeah. He wanted more money. Jared recognized the gleam in Ned’s eye. The Criswells had a weakness for gambling—and Chuck had developed a rep for being particularly unlucky. Rumor had it that between the football play-offs, Super Bowl and the latest NCAA basketball tournament, the Criswells had cleaned out their bank accounts.

      “If you don’t knock down that dam, Ned. I’ll do it for you.”

      “I don’t like threats. You’re worse than your old man, King. And he was an SOB.”

      “You took advantage of him and nearly cost Dad our land,” Jared said, with a bite. “But I’m not the pushover my father was. The Army taught me how to fight.”

      Ned’s face paled, but like most cowards, he didn’t face a battle, he ran.

      “This isn’t over.” He turned to his son. “Start the truck.”

      Chuck ran over to the brand-new F-350 and jumped in. Ned followed and heaved himself into the front seat. “I’m keeping the dam.”

      Chuck gunned the accelerator, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

      Jared rubbed his brow where the headache had erupted just beneath the surface. Ned had to know he was on thin ice diverting a waterway that flowed across more than his own property. Problem was, bureaucracy could take СКАЧАТЬ